A bad day for Biggles
by Rhodanthe
Summary: A day in the life of squadron 666 at Rawlham, Kent. Has appeared under a different user name on a forum.


Biggles had woken up early with a nagging toothache.

In the half light of the grey morning he rolled over to light up his first cigarette of the day. Unfortunately he rolled onto the black and white cat that was sleeping in the bed. The creature hissed its displeasure before biting him on the nearest fleshy part of his body.

With a curse he hopped out of bed and opened the door. The cat stalked out, with its tail in the air and wandered over to the dormitory where most of the other airmen were sleeping. With a plaintive mew it hopped onto Ginger's bed and snuggled down. "Has he kicked you out again, Kitty?" he murmured stroking the furry body gently. "You should know by now he doesn't like your little love bites"

Silence reigned for a little while until the steady drip- drip- drip of the bathroom tap got on Biggles' nerves. He stood up, banging his head on the low window frame which sent a dart of pain into his aching jaw

Opening the door to the bathroom he tried to turn off the tap. Instead the spindle came off in his hand and the rusted tap gave way, dousing him and the room liberally in cold water. Unable to turn it off; indeed his attempts to do so resulted in more water flooding from the now-useless tap.

Biggles ran downstairs to find the water main. He tripped over a pair of boots someone had left out and strained his ankle. He found the main and turned it off. He breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly there was a huge crash from inside the farmhouse. Biggles limped inside to find the ceiling in his office had collapsed from the weight of the water above.

He looked up.

A fall of water cascaded from directly above his head and chunks of plaster stuck to his pyjama shirt. "This is not my day" he said.

The crash had brought many of the officers to investigate.

They were quite surprised to find Biggles in his dripping-wet pyjamas standing among the ruins of his former office.

With Biggles' face looking like thunder the men decided discretion was the better part of valour and scattered.

Biggles, with the help of Toddy and Algy, cleared up the mess in his office after breakfast.

The toast had been burnt and Biggles found the effort to eat it almost too much.

With every movement causing pain Biggles was more than ready to report to the Medical Officer, who took one look at his now swollen cheek, decided the tooth must come out immediately and took him into the dentist. After a relatively painless extraction, thanks to the anaesthetic, Biggles was taken back to the aerodrome.

In the meantime what had been happening at Rawlham?

In the haste to clear up the office Toddy had neglected to pass on a message that Wing Commander Stevenson would be dropping by in the early part of the afternoon.

Toddy apologised and made the gentleman comfortable in the mess, seated near an open window.

This was to have unfortunate consequences. Ginger, Tex, Tug and Ferocity were standing outside this window and began to talk about some of the morning's events.

"Kitty certainly put herself around this morning" Ferocity remarked.

"Yes, she spent most of the night with Biggles, who kicked her out so she came to me for a cuddle. She should know by now Biggles doesn't like her love bites. Then she sat on Henry's bed for a while washing herself. She wanted to share Algy's bed; you know she loves it when he strokes her tummy."

"Biggles looked a right mess this morning."

"So would you if you had a sore head like his" The men moved away from the window but the damage was done.

The Wing Commander huffed into his walrus moustache.

What kind of a squadron was this anyway?

Not long afterwards Biggles staggered into the Mess. "Shorry to keep you waiting shir," he slurred, mouth still not working properly from the anaesthetic.

Wing Commander Stevenson's eyebrows knitted together. "You sir, are drunk!"

Biggles blinked at him owlishly. "Indeed I'm not shir. But I am a bit under the weather."

The Wing Commander's face grew purple and he proceeded to tear strips off Biggles.

"What kind of a squadron are you running here? Call yourselves officers and gentlemen?" he blustered.

Biggles was taken aback and opened his mouth. But he wasn't allowed to get a word in edgeways.

"The place looks like a salvage dump. The Commanding Officer is drunk and you and your men have been freely entertaining some tart in your beds. I knew there were some ropey types in this squadron, but I didn't think it extended to the C.O.," he ranted up and down the room this way for the next ten minutes, barely pausing for breath.

The volume of his voice attracted the men to the Mess. It also attracted a black and white cat.

The cat leapt through the window and sat on a chair near Biggles. She tilted her head and mewed softly. Biggles absently patted her on the head. "Hello Kitty" he said.

The Wing Commander stopped mid-rant and turned on him. "Who did you say?" he whispered.

Biggles continued to stroke the cat's head. "Allow me to introduce you to the squadron's cat. Kitty, meet Wing Commander Stevenson."

Kitty fixed the Wing Commander with an icy stare and began to wash her paw.

"This is Kitty?" he pointed to the feline.

"Yes sir."

The medical officer knocked on the door and entered the mess. "Excuse me sir." He handed Biggles a glass of water and an aspirin. "I thought you might need this. If that tooth gives you any more trouble we'll get you back to the Fang Farrier" he said. Saluting both the Wing Commander and Biggles he left the mess.

"Fang Farrier?"

"Yes, sir I had one of my back teeth out this morning. It's why I'm still under the weather." Biggles replied with a lopsided smile.

"And that is Kitty?"

"Yes sir." Biggles looked puzzled.

"There's no one else named Kitty that you know?"

"No sir." Biggles shook his head to try to clear it.

"And was the cat sleeping with you this morning?"

"Yes sir."

"Does she -er- like to share the officers' beds?"

Light began to dawn. Biggles allowed himself the ghost of a smile. "Yes sir."

Wing Commander Stevenson began to laugh. "I heard this was a squadron with a reputation," he said and repeated the conversation he overheard. "So I thought when you staggered in slurring your words you were suffering from the after effects of a heavy drinking session the night before. I really did get hold of some duff gen, didn't I?"

"I'll say, sir." Biggles grinned.


End file.
